Fic: Ideas and Actions
Feb. 5th, 2012 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfiona99Title: Ideas and Actions
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Wrestling
Characters: Randy Orton / Trish Stratus
Prompt: 2 - Cross-dressing
Word Count: 1,551
Rating: NC-17, explicit f/m sex and pegging.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is fiction, it is not real, it bears no resemblance to real life.
Summary: Once again, listening to Trish's suggestions proves to be a very good idea.
~~~~
Wrapping Trish up had been one heck of an experience. Sure, it wasn't like he'd never touched her breasts before, or that he didn't touch them regularly, but, in his heart of hearts, he was a boob man, and this was ever so close to heaven.
Trish made for a strange looking man, boy really, since she was so fresh-faced. Their agreed lie was that she was one of his younger cousins, and he was spending the day hanging and having generalised family time. They spent the day doing the kind of things he would have done with any of his cousins, playing in arcades, going on the rides at the local funfair, blatantly checking out the girls on the beach.
It was just like the old days, so sure enough, he ended up with the worst craving for junk food. It was exactly the kind of feeling that McDonalds was invented for.
They were sharing a box of fries.
"I have no idea what they do in Missouri, but where I'm from, you don't look at your cousins like that." He hit her on the shoulder, only not as hard as he'd hit his actual cousins, because they were all his height and build, not five foot five in heels.
And also, if his cousins drank their milkshakes like that, he'd probably backfist them till their Momma's could feel it, not just laugh it off.
It was the middle of the evening when they were done at the funfair. If there was a ride on that theme park they hadn't been on, it was because it was lame. They went back to their hotel room.
Trish pinned him to the bed, or she tried to and he let her.
"So, what do you say to this - tonight, I get to fuck you?" He could tell she wasn't joking when he saw her looking over at her bag. He knew she'd bought a strap-on, and you don't buy a thing like that if you don't plan to use it. They'd talked about doing it before, and he'd agreed to try it, thinking that it was something Trish wanted to do in some far off future that wouldn't happen. "We don't have to, if you don't want to do it." She sat back a little, to make it easier for him to sit up if he wanted to, or felt he needed to. Not that he couldn't have sat up anyway, he could bench-press more than she weighed, but he appreciated the gesture. He was faced with a tough decision, Trish had been spank bank material for so long before they'd got together that there were parts of him that still jumped on command at anything she said.
It didn't mean he was entirely up for the idea of being fucked in the ass.
Trish carried on, it seemed like she'd put a lot of thought into this. "We'd have a safe word, of course. Batista, maybe."
"Batista!"
"'You say his name while we're having sex and I'll know I'm doing something very wrong." Randy had to laugh. He lay back on the bed, maybe this wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Plus, this would definitely count in his favour the next time he wanted to do the thing with the feather.
They got undressed, well, Randy was naked; Trish had batted away his hand when he'd tried to take off her t-shirt. He'd knocked her wig off as they kissed and it meant that his brain was getting some very confused signals. Trish's hair came down over her shoulders and her lips were red with kissing. Then came the t-shirt. He missed her breasts, hidden under the cotton t-shirt, but he was still fine up to that point. It was once his attention moved lower that he started feeling confused. There was a thing between her legs, something that shouldn't been there. Watching her put the damn thing on had been an interesting experience, a real eye-opener. The sound as she'd slid in the part of it that went into her ... he'd never been one of those guys who got off on dirty talk or anything like that, but he could learn to love sounds like that.
She was smearing slick goop all over it, until it was dripping and shiny. His attention was glued to it.
Trish walked over, advancing with the thing. She started to prepare him. He'd done this to people, so he knew what was going on, and he hadn't meant to flinch.
She stopped immediately and took two steps back. "I mean it, Randy; say the word and I'll stop. No harm, no foul, not a problem."
"I'll be fine." Trish frowned at him. "I mean it too. It's just something different to get used to." His eyes darted to the strap-on.
"It's smaller than your dick. I made sure. I didn't want you to feel jealous." Randy smirked at her. That was when Randy made up his mind; he had to be reasonable about this. It was Trish, she'd look after him.
He turned over.
"Just remember, you want to stop, you say." And he knew she would stop completely. It meant he could relax. Trish was helping with that, massaging his back rather than diving straight in. Apparently there were things he had to learn about the whole business, because he didn't have Trish's restraint.
Randy was practically floating on air when Trish started to carefully ease her fingers into him again. She gave him time to get used to the feeling, which meant that when she slid the strap-on into him, he was ready for it, and comfortable to carry on.
Trish knew what she was doing with this part as well, not pushing too hard, but still making sure that Randy could feel it, feel it all the way through his body.
Trish worked at him, thrusting harder, making him pull at the bed-sheets, and grind down against the mattress. He could feel her hair brushing against his shoulders, and he could have sworn he felt her nipples, stiff, even through the bandages and the t-shirt. He'd noticed that before, that more than any other part of her, he could tell how turned on Trish was by how hard her nipples were, and, even at a distracted estimate, he'd never felt them as stiff as this. Randy was happily amazed that he was giving her that.
Then again, if they did this again, and signs were very good that they would, it wouldn't just be because Randy enjoyed humouring Trish. He might have preferred this the other way round, but he could still feel the tightness inside beginning to build.
Trish must have been feeling the same way, he could feel trying to slide her hand between them so that she could touch herself. When that didn't quite work, she pulled him up by the hips, so that he was kneeling in front of her. It took her a few moments to get the timing of her hips going again, but Trish understood his needs and gave him a reach around. Randy preferred this position, he could deal with groaning for more with her hand round his dick better than grinding against the bed like some punk thirteen year old.
It also meant that Trish could reach her clit to help herself along. He would have offered to help, literally give her a hand, except he wasn't co-ordinated enough to do that from this position even without the wonderful distraction of his own arousal. Right now his brain was taken up with thrusting into Trish's palm in response to her movements.
The drive of her hips was starting to become ragged, Randy could feel Trish trying to keep the rhythm smooth and losing the battle. Her hand loosened and tightened around his dick as it moved up and down, almost matching the rise and fall of Trish's breathing.
He heard the tell-tale hitch, that sound that Trish always and only ever made when she came, and felt the tiny tremors of her thighs against the back of his.
Despite that, she didn't stop; she kept thrusting into him, making these wet little noises and soft 'ooh's every time she rocked backwards, and kissing up and down his back. He could have sworn he had no tension in his back, but when she kissing right at the top of his back and thrust in just so it was as though he were made of liquid silver, and everything simply let go.
Trish carefully slid out of him, taking his condom off at the same time. She got rid of it and her strap on when she joined him in bed. He'd climbed under the bedding and wrapped it and himself round her as they went to sleep.
"That didn't go too badly," she whispered to him.
"No, it was a very good idea of yours." He kissed her and held her more tightly. Listening to Trish was always a good idea.
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: Wrestling
Characters: Randy Orton / Trish Stratus
Prompt: 2 - Cross-dressing
Word Count: 1,551
Rating: NC-17, explicit f/m sex and pegging.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is fiction, it is not real, it bears no resemblance to real life.
Summary: Once again, listening to Trish's suggestions proves to be a very good idea.
~~~~
Wrapping Trish up had been one heck of an experience. Sure, it wasn't like he'd never touched her breasts before, or that he didn't touch them regularly, but, in his heart of hearts, he was a boob man, and this was ever so close to heaven.
Trish made for a strange looking man, boy really, since she was so fresh-faced. Their agreed lie was that she was one of his younger cousins, and he was spending the day hanging and having generalised family time. They spent the day doing the kind of things he would have done with any of his cousins, playing in arcades, going on the rides at the local funfair, blatantly checking out the girls on the beach.
It was just like the old days, so sure enough, he ended up with the worst craving for junk food. It was exactly the kind of feeling that McDonalds was invented for.
They were sharing a box of fries.
"I have no idea what they do in Missouri, but where I'm from, you don't look at your cousins like that." He hit her on the shoulder, only not as hard as he'd hit his actual cousins, because they were all his height and build, not five foot five in heels.
And also, if his cousins drank their milkshakes like that, he'd probably backfist them till their Momma's could feel it, not just laugh it off.
It was the middle of the evening when they were done at the funfair. If there was a ride on that theme park they hadn't been on, it was because it was lame. They went back to their hotel room.
Trish pinned him to the bed, or she tried to and he let her.
"So, what do you say to this - tonight, I get to fuck you?" He could tell she wasn't joking when he saw her looking over at her bag. He knew she'd bought a strap-on, and you don't buy a thing like that if you don't plan to use it. They'd talked about doing it before, and he'd agreed to try it, thinking that it was something Trish wanted to do in some far off future that wouldn't happen. "We don't have to, if you don't want to do it." She sat back a little, to make it easier for him to sit up if he wanted to, or felt he needed to. Not that he couldn't have sat up anyway, he could bench-press more than she weighed, but he appreciated the gesture. He was faced with a tough decision, Trish had been spank bank material for so long before they'd got together that there were parts of him that still jumped on command at anything she said.
It didn't mean he was entirely up for the idea of being fucked in the ass.
Trish carried on, it seemed like she'd put a lot of thought into this. "We'd have a safe word, of course. Batista, maybe."
"Batista!"
"'You say his name while we're having sex and I'll know I'm doing something very wrong." Randy had to laugh. He lay back on the bed, maybe this wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Plus, this would definitely count in his favour the next time he wanted to do the thing with the feather.
They got undressed, well, Randy was naked; Trish had batted away his hand when he'd tried to take off her t-shirt. He'd knocked her wig off as they kissed and it meant that his brain was getting some very confused signals. Trish's hair came down over her shoulders and her lips were red with kissing. Then came the t-shirt. He missed her breasts, hidden under the cotton t-shirt, but he was still fine up to that point. It was once his attention moved lower that he started feeling confused. There was a thing between her legs, something that shouldn't been there. Watching her put the damn thing on had been an interesting experience, a real eye-opener. The sound as she'd slid in the part of it that went into her ... he'd never been one of those guys who got off on dirty talk or anything like that, but he could learn to love sounds like that.
She was smearing slick goop all over it, until it was dripping and shiny. His attention was glued to it.
Trish walked over, advancing with the thing. She started to prepare him. He'd done this to people, so he knew what was going on, and he hadn't meant to flinch.
She stopped immediately and took two steps back. "I mean it, Randy; say the word and I'll stop. No harm, no foul, not a problem."
"I'll be fine." Trish frowned at him. "I mean it too. It's just something different to get used to." His eyes darted to the strap-on.
"It's smaller than your dick. I made sure. I didn't want you to feel jealous." Randy smirked at her. That was when Randy made up his mind; he had to be reasonable about this. It was Trish, she'd look after him.
He turned over.
"Just remember, you want to stop, you say." And he knew she would stop completely. It meant he could relax. Trish was helping with that, massaging his back rather than diving straight in. Apparently there were things he had to learn about the whole business, because he didn't have Trish's restraint.
Randy was practically floating on air when Trish started to carefully ease her fingers into him again. She gave him time to get used to the feeling, which meant that when she slid the strap-on into him, he was ready for it, and comfortable to carry on.
Trish knew what she was doing with this part as well, not pushing too hard, but still making sure that Randy could feel it, feel it all the way through his body.
Trish worked at him, thrusting harder, making him pull at the bed-sheets, and grind down against the mattress. He could feel her hair brushing against his shoulders, and he could have sworn he felt her nipples, stiff, even through the bandages and the t-shirt. He'd noticed that before, that more than any other part of her, he could tell how turned on Trish was by how hard her nipples were, and, even at a distracted estimate, he'd never felt them as stiff as this. Randy was happily amazed that he was giving her that.
Then again, if they did this again, and signs were very good that they would, it wouldn't just be because Randy enjoyed humouring Trish. He might have preferred this the other way round, but he could still feel the tightness inside beginning to build.
Trish must have been feeling the same way, he could feel trying to slide her hand between them so that she could touch herself. When that didn't quite work, she pulled him up by the hips, so that he was kneeling in front of her. It took her a few moments to get the timing of her hips going again, but Trish understood his needs and gave him a reach around. Randy preferred this position, he could deal with groaning for more with her hand round his dick better than grinding against the bed like some punk thirteen year old.
It also meant that Trish could reach her clit to help herself along. He would have offered to help, literally give her a hand, except he wasn't co-ordinated enough to do that from this position even without the wonderful distraction of his own arousal. Right now his brain was taken up with thrusting into Trish's palm in response to her movements.
The drive of her hips was starting to become ragged, Randy could feel Trish trying to keep the rhythm smooth and losing the battle. Her hand loosened and tightened around his dick as it moved up and down, almost matching the rise and fall of Trish's breathing.
He heard the tell-tale hitch, that sound that Trish always and only ever made when she came, and felt the tiny tremors of her thighs against the back of his.
Despite that, she didn't stop; she kept thrusting into him, making these wet little noises and soft 'ooh's every time she rocked backwards, and kissing up and down his back. He could have sworn he had no tension in his back, but when she kissing right at the top of his back and thrust in just so it was as though he were made of liquid silver, and everything simply let go.
Trish carefully slid out of him, taking his condom off at the same time. She got rid of it and her strap on when she joined him in bed. He'd climbed under the bedding and wrapped it and himself round her as they went to sleep.
"That didn't go too badly," she whispered to him.
"No, it was a very good idea of yours." He kissed her and held her more tightly. Listening to Trish was always a good idea.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-02-05 06:28 pm (UTC)Very, very lovely. Simple, elegant phrasing.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-11 07:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-05 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-11 07:21 pm (UTC)